XxDown
by Necratoholic
Summary: Harry has been told his curiousity would get him into trouble one day. And when he decides to follow a white rabbit he finds himself falling down the rabbit hole itself. Strait into a world of teacups, duchesses, cats, dream ballons, Kings, and Hatter's tea parties, Harry just might take the cat's advice and stray from the path home and instead give in to his own dementia.Tom/Harry


AN: Once upon a time a little plot bunny occurred to the authoress. It was a plot bunny that had been done before many times but non the less this is what came from it. Honestly, I'm amazed I wrote it for as long as I have. Xx-Down, my Harry Potter wonderland story. It's my longest story to date, spanning a bit of words and I like it most out of all of them. I hope you enjoy it and please read and review if you would an dlet me know what I can do to make it better.

Summary: Harry had known it wasn't a good idea to follow the white eared rabbit girl. But his curiosity as he's been told, often leads him into trouble. Falling down the rabbit hole proves to be a curious adventure indeed. But the only way to escape his own madness is to go before The King of Hearts.

Series: Harry Potter  
Rating:Pg-13 and possibly Up  
Pairings: Soft Tom/Harry, Voldemort/Harry

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Chapter One: Welcome To Wonderland

And Through the Door

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Harry had known it wasn't a good idea. He did, but the overwhelming curiosity he possessed had once again forced him to investigate a strange sight. Hadn't Blaise told him, on quite a few occasions, that his curiosity would get him into trouble one day? Well, it was either that or his much trodden on intelligence; Harry wasn't quite sure which one for his friend always disregarded both. Now Harry cursed his fault for all it was worth, reminding himself not to tell Blaise that he had finally accepted the fact. In his defense, however, it was a mystifying sight. After all, it wasn't everyday you saw a young woman with rabbit ears skipping through your back garden. So, all in all he thought, you can't really blame me. But it was also his curiosity that got him into this rather puzzling situation. Because of his damned inquisitive nature, Harry found himself floating softly, downward in a strange vertical (Or was it horizontal? He was never sure which was which.) tunnel with no explanation as to why or how.

He was certain he had been following the weird girl through his garden. And then...he wasn't. One minuet he was following her out the back silver gate and through a make shift trail through the forest, which were the hanging vines that dangled down from the trucks and branches of birch trees, and then next he was tumbling head over heels downward until he came to rest in the supporting air. It was all quite perplexing really.

And, if that wasn't horrible enough, his masculinity was being challenged. It seemed some strange force had pulled some strings and stuck him in a detailed Victorian styled dress. The dress was made out of soft, black material. ( Cotton perhaps, he thought as he fingered the said cloth.) A corset had also tightened it's way onto his lithe waist, purple in colour and pulled tightly, a black ruffle sprouting from the tied middle. The top of the dress was just a tuft of midnight cloth, wavy with an inky lace under finish, leaving his shoulders bare and collar bone exposed. The skirt fell to his knees, billowing out extensively, the bottom trimmed with a light purple, white polka dots upon the violet plane. Black lace poked out from under the dress, a delicate border of circles and swirls. Arm gloves that had found their way onto his arms, sporting the same colour as the majority of the dress and laced in the back with purple ribbon, left his long fingered hands exposed. Leg stockings also encased his legs, black and purple stripped, stopping mid upper thighs. Black school shoes with elevated platforms were strapped on his feet, feeling heavy on his thin ankles. And, to top it all off, a large, fluffy bow, with the same design as the cloths, blossomed from the back of the corset, the long ties falling to his thighs.

Now, fully clothed in his new outfit, Harry was slowly descending the tunnel to who knows where. As he looked around, he found himself facing another odd situation. The tunnel wasn't very wide, in fact it was rather narrow, probably only thirty or so feet tolerant; it wasn't the width of the chamber that astonished him though. No, it was how the passage was decorated and what went on in it. Patches of diagonally stripped red and gold, green stars upon a silver background which gave off a faint lime light, black and yellow checkered splotches, and blue squares with thin, bronze swirls all mingled together on the walls of the tunnel blending together. Harry had to rub his eyes and focus to stop himself from getting light headed at the intricate patterns for he had been starring at them, it seems, far too long. Although, the impressions were confusing, it was what floated pass him that befuddled him the most.

Side tables, made from polished hickory wood, drifted upward, never wobbling or spilling any of their contents. Balanced on the tabletops were delicate teacups and an occasional teakettle, made out of fine bone china or porcelain, their faces painted with flowers, circles, scenes of nature, and many displaying unique handles and arrangements. Some of the rims were gold platted, others were wavy, and still some had the designs cut out of the cups; though no drop of liquid was ever spilled. Trays loaded with sweets and biscuits were placed beside the paired sets, arranged neatly on silver, spoons setting in glass goblets, waiting to be plucked from their resting spot.

Obeying their unsaid wishes, Harry reached for a pink cup with white circles printed at the top and a silver spoon tarnished black at the handle. Bringing the fine cup to his lips, Harry took a tentative sip, eyes widening in shock at the unusual taste that filled his mouth. Pulling the cup away, he tilted it and looked inside the once innocent cannikin. The beverage inside was a pink hue and, to Harry's utter amazement, a bubble appeared on the surface and after a few moments passed, blossomed skyward. Harry watched the shimmering object for a few seconds before he returned his emerald orbs to the now bubbling cup that he held in his hands. The bubblegum flavoured tea continued to spit out bubbles and Harry let a delighted smile tug at his lips as the spheres danced to escape their bed. He replaced the cup on the next table that strayed by, the tinkling of china echoing as the cups pressed together.

Sighing, the raven haired boy pulled himself into a sitting position, as if he were sitting on a chair (All be it a chair that was buoyant in thin air.) Placing his elbows on his knees and head in his hands, Harry contemplated on what to do next. It was apparent that he was getting nowhere, drifting and descending as he was. What am I to do, he thought mournfully, If I just keep going down and down, but not up?

With nothing better to do, he leaned back and placed his arms behind his head and stared at the non existent ceiling, subconsciously snatching a biscuit from a tray that just passed. Nibbling on the corner of the eight pointed star, he tilted his head to the left and looked downward, his mouth opening into a small 'o' of shock. He let go of the cookie, which ascended upward without complaint, and effortlessly propelled himself into a standing position. Raising his hand to his eyes he fixed his sight below him where the scenery started to change. The planes that acted as walls still portrayed their usual designs, but the tables that once came from below were scarce. Instead, clocks had replaced them, ticking and tocking, their faces aglow with numbers and images. Wonderful! Harry thought, delighted, I can finally see how long I've been in here. Blaise must be awfully worried by now.

However, as Harry slowly fell, he felt the enlightedness leaving in small doses as he looked upon the clocks. The paned surface of the time keepers didn't seem to have the normal numbers at all. He could see no ones or twos, or even twelve's! Instead, they had been replaced with pictures of teacups, ever changing numbers no where near to the originals, and some didn't even have faces, the inner gogs and gears visible, turning and fitting together like a moving puzzle. Disappointed, he gave a huff of irritation and gazed downward once again to see if he was getting anywhere. Hourglasses passed, twirling head over heels, followed shortly by clocks with reversed pendulums swaying above them. Dismissing them, emerald eyes zoned in on what appeared to be ground.(He was never quite sure as the tunnel seemed to have made him believe up was down and right was left.) But as he continued, a grin spread across his face when he realized it was a black and white swirled floor that had come to meet him.

An unseeable hand gently tipped him forward and Harry landed gracefully in the middle of the hypnotizing circle. Running his hand over the creases of his dress, he inclined his head back and gazed upward through the peculiar vertical (Horizontal?) shaft. Above, tables continued along their way without a care in the world, trays bobbling along with their sweets, and clock ticking in a rhythmic beat. Shaking his head, Harry took a hesitant step down the one and only hall that extended from the circle. Casting one last glance at the entrance he started to walk down the black and white checkered path. His footsteps resounded as he pranced, this tunnel filled with the constant ticking of small clocks. Plush Victorian chairs lined the walls in groups of two, a table between them with a teapot and teacups on small saucers set on it's top, begging to be sat in. Mirrors lined the walls, full length and golden framed, but not reflecting what a mirror should have been. The chairs and tables that appeared right side up to Harry's eyes but when he looked in the looking glass itself everything was seated upside down. And in fact when Harry passed the mirror, he himself appeared to be going the opposite direction. Curious, he stopped to examine the pane of glass, placing his fingers against the smooth, cool surface. His reflection copied. Although, similar, when he lowered his arm to rest at his side Mirror Harry waved and smiled instead.

Pleasantly surprised, he stepped back and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The other copied, although it wore a grin where Harry carried a concentrated frown. " How strange, " He said aloud, " I've never seen a mirror like this before,"

" Well, " The person in the mirror said back, " I've never seen the likes of you either, at least not here, "

Mouth opening in a mixture of fascination and apprehension, he stifled a gasp, clasping his hands across his lips. The other looked at him with confusion, as if he hadn't seen anything like him before likewise. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry replied, " A-and where is here? "

" Where indeed, " Mirror Harry smiled, knowing something he didn't, before wiggling his fingers at him and stepping out of frame, leaving nothing but glass.

Glowering at the empty space, Harry took a small step to the side so he was no longer in front of the mirror. Giving it a worried look, he continued on, taking careful steps and listening avidly for any thing out of place. The corridor twisted gently every so often, leading Harry around; at the bends, the furniture took on a curved appearance. It wasn't long before the hallway narrowed, bowing inward like the middle of a time turner. As Harry made a turn (His tenth or eleventh he was sure ) he had to stop. It assumed an end, a narrow door set into the wall, white in colour with a gold knocker placed in the middle. Figuring he had no other choice, which in face he did, he reached up and grasped the flawless handle, giving the door a sharp rap. Immediately, the door opened a crack, and Harry pulled it back, arching backward in astoundment. There was no doorway where it should have been ( But Harry started to doubt anything was as it should have been really ) and instead another door, black with a white doorknob, stood in his way. Groaning, he opened that one also, expecting another barricade. He was correct to assume for a smaller door, red outlined in gold at the corners, stood. Opening that one resulted in another,( green with silver) and then another ( blue and brown ) and still yet another, ( yellow and black ). Frustrated, for the doors diminished in size as he opened each one in turn, he opened the yellow door roughly, stumbling back. Exhaling and blowing a piece of loose hair out of his face, Harry kneeled upon his hands and knees, the door only as tall as his knees. There was no knocker nor doorknob upon the grey wood, but a sign tacked to it said 'Do not Pull for Pushing is Wrong'.

Making no sense of the nonsense message, he placed his palm against it and gave it a push. It gave way underneath his fingers and swayed inward, no door to cage him in. Smirking in triumph, he crawled along, squeezing his shoulders through the narrow gap, wiggling through, torso followed by a thin waist. His hips proved a bit difficult, but after a bit of tugging and propelling, he popped out of the doorway with a roll, landing on his extremity a few feet from the hole. Behind him, the doors closed by themselves, soundlessly shutting, the swinging door closing last ( With a sign that said Do Not Push for Pulling is Wrong). Shakily getting to his feet, Harry tugged his rumpled skirt down, puffing with indignation. Giving a sarcastic nod at the now unopened door, he slumped his small shoulders and stepped into the darkened room. Blindly waving his arms in front of him, he was drawn to a dull glow to his right. Feeling, he reached for it, a grainy surface meeting the tips of his fingers. Thinking it was a lamp, he ran his appendages over it, finally feeling a chain made from small spheres; tugging it softly, it clicked in response and bathed the semi small room in a warm sunset glow.

Pulling away he turned around and smiled at the coziness of the room. Plush armchairs sat in one corner, a fireplace, now alive with the roaring flames, burned merrily as an empty table sat between each of the three resting places. Bookshelves were crammed with books of different colours and widths and Harry witnessed a few fly from their places, flapping in the air. Feeling at peace, he relaxed and stepped into the room, the carpet beneath him a fuzzy yellow. His line of sight was drawn to a door, smaller than the one he had come through, and he kept stride as he went to inspect his one exit ( Which wasn't strictly true, he could have retreated through the door in the ceiling but he had no way of knowing that ) although he wanted nothing more then to flop onto one of the armchairs and kick his shoes off. Stooping, he leaned forward and placed a hand on the doorknob, giving it a sharp tug; imagine his surprise when the door gave a shriek of pain.

Snapping back, Harry quickly withdrew his arm, clutching it to his side as a face appeared before his own eyes. Twinkling blue lamps fluttered open, half moon spectacles forming from the door. A mouth swished back and forth and the doorknob shuffled from side to side like an itchy nose. The pools of baby blue soon caught sight of him and the mouth formed into a beaming grin. " Why hello there! " His voice was grandfatherly and filled with, it seemed, the knowledge of the world.

" He-hello, " Harry stuttered out, hugging his knees.

The eyes sparkled and he had the feeling that they were looking right through him. " And what brings you here my dear boy? "

" Well, " Harry started, figuring it was best to just accept the fact that things were more then a little strange here, " I was following a rabbit, "

" A rabbit? " The other enquired, eyebrows lifted close to a non existent hairline, " What rabbit? "

" Why, the rabbit that came through here of course! " He exclaimed.

" Not sure I'm familiar with her, "

" Then how do you know she's a girl? " He said, quirking his own eyebrow.

" Who? " The doorknob questioned, smile wide on his brass face.

" Oh, never mind, " Harry sighed, placing his head in his hands and looking over the so called doorknob. " What exactly are you anyway? "

" Why, " He said in a voice that said as if it was as plain as day, " I'm a Dumbledore! Or I suppose, " He added thoughtfully, " You can say I'm a doorknob! "

" Well, not to be rude, " He rebuttaled, " You're not like any doorknob I've seen. "

" Really? " He asked, smile dropping a few millimeters, " How so? I'm just like any other doorknob! "

" Doorknobs don't talk, " Harry stated, wondering if it was bizarre that he was conversing with an inadament object, " At least where I come from, "

" Well now, that's just plain weird, " He huffed, " All doorknobs should be able to talk. Ah well, nothing I can do about it it seems, "

" Too right, " Harry said, agreeing, " Can you let me through now? I have somewhere to be. "

" Go right ahead, " He said jolly as can be. Harry gave a sigh of relief and gripped the doorknob like nose and was about to turn it but the object spoke up, " Now wait a minuet, son. You can't just barge through a door, it's not very polite you see, "

" You said I could go through, " He protested, though he removed his hand.

" I did, " Dumbledore remarked, " Though you're far too big to go through. "

Harry saw that he was correct, although similar to the door he had entered through, this one was much smaller up close and he had no hope of squeezing through this one. He gave a desperate moan and warily asked, " Then how do I get through? "

" Why, try the bottle of course! " Dumbledore exclaimed, inclining his 'head' toward the empty table. At least, it was empty. A glass bottle with a stopper appeared from within the glass, a red liquid washing against the sides. " I would have started there to begin with! "

" Oh, " Harry huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, " You could have told me that to begin with, " Turning sharply, he walked up to the little, quaint mahogany table and gripped the small bottle between his thumb and index finger. Bringing the bottle up to eye level he questioned, " Will this really make me small? Is it safe? " He looked over his shoulder at the still smiling door.

" Of course it'll make you small, you silly boy! " He cheered, " And it's as safe as I am! "

" That doesn't say much, " He mumbled to himself, pulling the stopper out and setting it on the table with a dull clack. " But, if you say so, " He shrugged; tipping the uncorked flask, he swallowed the pitiful mouthful, the overwhelming taste of candy apples on his taste buds. " Why, " He declared , " It tastes remarkably well! "

" I should think so, "

Licking his lips, he looked at the bottle with a label tied to string around the top of the mouth which read: I Make You Small. Suddenly, the bottle was bigger, heavier in his hands. " Ah! " He exclaimed as he shot down another two feet, the bottle rocking dangerously in his arms, which were struggling to hold it's weight. Another few seconds and he shrank until he was only six inches (Six and one eight inch if you were to be technical ). The glass figure was now bigger then he was by approximately four inches. Examining his smaller body, Harry gave a nod of acceptance and stepped up to the door. " I'm the right size, perfect actually, " He smiled, " Will you let me through now? "

" I would dear boy if I could, " Dumbledore said, smile never leaving his face, "But, you see, I'm locked, "

Gaping, Harry's shoulders sagged in astonished disbelief. Trying to work his tongue, he hissed, " W-what? "

" I appear to be locked! " He stated as if it were the most obvious thing.

Stomping his foot, he gave a frustrated growl and demanded, " Then how am I suppose to get through? "

" The key of course! " The door chuckled, " What else but a key? " As if it were waiting for a cue, a golden skeleton key appeared on the table, a red and marigold plaid ribbon tied just below the head.

" I'll show you what else, " Harry grumbled, walking toward the tables curved legs. Gathering the skirt of the dress, he pulled it to the side and knotted it so it would be much easier to climb as the cloth wouldn't get in the way. He gripped the bow leg tightly, nails digging shallowly into the soft, pores brace. Lifting his left leg up, he wedged the heel of his polished shoe against the table and heaved himself upward. It was difficult and Harry had only made it a few feet before he was panting for breath and the tips of his fingers were blistered and red. " Damn it, " He groaned, reaching for his next handhold. Grasping for it, he was dismayed to find that he couldn't reach it. Sighing, he let go, his fingers rejoicing, and slid down the column he had been ascending. The make shift slide deposited him daintily and the raven haired teen placed his chin in his cupped hands. " Now what am I suppose to do? "

" Try the box of course, " Dumbledore piped up, chortling.

Harry was about to ask what box he was talking about for there was no box as far as he could tell; before he could comment on this though, an octagonal shaped box materialized at his feet, it's lid printed with blue and grey plaid, a metal latch keeping the casket shut. Flicking the clamp back, he opened the box to see little biscuits resting on purple velvet with words written on them in thin icing. One read 'Eat Me' and another read 'I'm Delicious' but he chose a red star shaped cookie ( I'm best ) and took a large bite, three of the points no longer in place. " I don't see how this will help, " He scoffed, looking intently at the seemingly innocent crumpet, " It's just a- "

He was cut off as he felt himself stretching, being pulled upward. A gasp escape him from the sudden sensation. His head soon bumped painfully against the tiled ceiling and Harry reached up a now massive hand to cradle his possibly fractured skull. He had to arch forward so as to not crash through the ceiling and he was beginning to experience an unpleasant sensation of being crammed into a toy's resting box. In fact, the only good thing that came out of his sudden growth spurt was the satisfying thud he heard ( And the wail of pain that ensued after ) when his right foot contacted with the annoying, talking door.

Ruffling his tousled locks, Harry stabilized himself by placing his hands palm down on the cool floor, huddling up, (reluctantly) snatching his foot back from the door which wiggled it's doorknob nose and wrinkled it's eyes, most likely trying to get the feeling ( Did doors have feelings? Harry wondered ) back.

" Well now, " Dumbledore sniffed, turning his nose up at the now giant boy, "That was highly uncalled for! "

" Yeah, well, " Harry grumbled back, squirming in place, trying to get comfortable in such cramped conditions, " You should have been more precise on your instructions, " He gave a short kick to the door for emphasis but was irritated three seconds later when the door uttered a chuckle.

" You should have asked for them my dear boy, "

" Damn it, " He moaned, " Now what am I suppose to do? "

" Well, you could-"

" Shut the hell up, " He interrupted, tapping his shoe against the annoying door. "I've heard enough from you, "

" -try the other bottle, " The other continued, as if he hadn't heard, " It's obviously the correct answer, "

" Obviously, " He growled, knowing that there was indeed no other bottle.

But, as he had come to expect, another bottle was there. Set next to the key (Which he blamed for all of his misfortunes. ) it was crystal stopped and a marigold liquid swirled within. Huffing, he lowered his hand and delicately grabbed the container. Flicking the stopper off he said to himself, " Bottoms up, " and tipped the liquid into his mouth. A taste of caramel overwhelmed his taste buds and Harry licked his lips, feeling the potion immediately start working. He was being pushed in at all angles, his head shrinking back from the ceiling, foot from the door (regrettably really ), and all together compressed.

With a small 'pop' Harry was reduced to his miniature size again, in midair. Crossing his arms, he floated down, feet hitting the wooden table with a soft click. Stalking over to the key, he hefted it up onto his shoulder and dipped at it's weight. " Why am I going through all this trouble? " He murmured, plopping down at the edge of the table, scanning on how far of a fall it would be. As an answer, the table's leg curved out and extended, ending in a small upper curl that would tip him upon his feet. Scooting forward, the bizarre happenings were starting to grow on him, he sat upon the smooth, polished wood and, with one final shove from his free hand, slipped down the leg, skirt bunching up above his knees and raven locks flying behind him. As he was tossed into the air, Harry clutched the skeleton key to his chest in case he dropped it, and soon was deposited on the tiled floor gently, the leg retracting back into a normal brace. Striding over to the door, head held high as if in defiance, he showed the key to the door. " I have it now, "

" Well so it seems my dear boy! " Dumbledore beamed, " It's about time! "

" Damn right, " He said, glaring at the door, " Now can you open up so I can shove this in your mouth? I really want to shut you up. "

" Why, you're being awfully rude all of a sud- "

He was caught off guard, halting mid sentence, when Harry happily shoved the many nooked and chipped key into it's rightful place. Smiling as the door's muffled curses and yelps were stifled by the golden key, the black haired boy turned it to the left, the welcome sound of a door being unlocked quickly following. " So sorry, " Harry said formally, " But you'll have to speak up, I can't quite hear you. " Grinning, feigning innocence, he reached out and put his hand on the nose, the cool touch of the metal cooling the skin on his palm. Twisting it gently, the opposite way of which he turned the key, and, with a sigh, the door creaked open, swinging inward, revealing a dark interior. Kneeling, he leaned inside the frame and looked around, only seeing distant lights. Taking a deep breath he said to himself, " Well, here I go, "

And with that he stepped through the door.


End file.
